Feliks Lukasiewicz, Girl in Progress
by Sharon Stoppable
Summary: From when he was very young, Feliks knew he was a girl. Watch as she goes from awkward third grade boy to a young woman struggling to earn her college diploma. Rated T for sensitive issues.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Welcome to my newest fic! It's quite different from my other one I'm working on, which is called _Terrible _and is a Hunger Games/Hetalia fanfic. _

_Enjoy, and if you like it, please comment/fave it. I'm still new to this, so I need all the support I can get._

_I may need to put this fic on the back burner while I work on _Terrible_, so please bear with me. _

_Also, while the first chapter may be short, it's only an introduction. The chapters will get longer. I promise. :)_

* * *

The clock reads 12:30 am, and I'm at my dresser doing makeup. Believe it or not, this is quite a common occurrence for me.

Midnight is the only time when I can have time for myself and pretty up my face and hair without anyone judging me.

And I, like, _hate _to be judged.

I reach for my sparkly pink lip gloss. My favorite. I bought it when I was out shopping with Erzsébet. Actually, I bought all my makeup while shopping with Erzsi.

She's the only one I can trust with these things. If I told anyone, even Toris, my other best friend, I'd be done for. He's a nice guy but I don't think he'd understand. He's not, like, the most popular guy in school, but he's on the basketball team and is manly enough to wear his hair in a ponytail.

How come some guys can wear ponytails but some can't? Stupid gender norms, that's what.

As I think about the stupidity of others, I apply some rouge. Ooh, my face looks so nice when it's rosy! Who'd be able to resist me?

A lot of people would, actually. They'll all call me a freak, or something of that equivalent.

The thought saddens me a bit, so I push the thought away and apply some more makeup. Eyeliner this time.

I lean into the mirror as I apply, so it doesn't come out looking too thick, making me look like a tramp.

Ugh, it _does _make me look like a tramp! I wipe off the eyeliner and sigh.

I just want to look pretty. Not popular pretty, but just pretty. Like, girl next door kind of pretty. Yeah, that'll do. I just want to look more… _feminine_, y'know?

I don't look feminine in the slightest. my face is soft and blemish free, but is quite obviously male if you look at it.

And I hate it.

My name is Feliks Lukasiewicz, and I am a girl.


	2. Part One: Third Grade: America

**Part One: Third Grade**

**America **

_"Learning English is hard!" _

_"The grammar makes no sense!"_

_"Why do we have to move?"_

I complain as I pack all my stuff into cardboard boxes.

We're moving to America soon. Dad got a new job. This means I'm going to begin third grade speaking English.

One problem: my English is no good. What if I forget a word, no a sentence, and don't know what to do? What if I cry?

A few other questions: will going on an airplane be fun? Will it hurt my ears like that one kid said? Will I make any friends in America? What about my friends here?

Mom hands me a garbage bag to throw away some of my old toys. I look around my room until I find my toy box. Inside, there are tons of toys I don't play with. Trucks, action figures, those kinds of things. Things boys play with.

But not me. My parents don't understand that. They think that since I look like a boy I have to be a boy. I try really hard to explain, but my parents just look at me the way I look at them when they spell big words in front of me: confused.

I chuck my old toys into the bag. I am _not _going to take any of them to America with me and that is final. Opening the bag wide, I throw all my action figures in.

"Goodbye, superheroes!" I say as they all fall to the bottom with a satisfying thwack. As I chuck them in, I keep thinking to myself, "Maybe this Christmas I will get a doll." It makes me smile, knowing that moving might not be so bad.

Getting rid of old toys may not solve all my problems, but it does make me feel a little better. I will worry about English and friends and airplanes another time.


	3. The Doll

**The doll**

Mom gives me money to buy some gum for the airplane ride. I feel grown up being able to go and buy stuff! Well, our terminal is right next to the gift shop, _and_ she also told me to give her the change after I get back, but still! I feel rich carrying this money in my pocket. (It's dumb, I know, but if you ask any other kid, I know they want to feel like grownups, too.)

Anyway, the airport is totally huge. People pass by me with suitcases and speak in languages I've never heard of. I've got my own suitcase, a green one. I wanted a pink one so bad, but Dad didn't want me to have one. So I got green instead. I've got green eyes, so I like it okay.

But it isn't pink.

The suitcase came in a set, so I've got a blue backpack as well. It is for my "carry-on" things like my blanket and drawing book and some crayons. Here, I treat them like my prized possessions. It's more fun when you've got something to protect.

I walk over to the gift shop _without my mom_, stepping right in the middle of each large blue tile lining the floor. It's more fun this way.

I enter the gift shop. It sells a lot of post cards and candy and stuff. I pick out a humungous pack of strawberry bubblegum-my total and absolute favorite-and consider buying a second one until I see a little doll on a souvenir rack look right at me.

She is gorgeous, like, totally gorgeous! Her blonde hair is tied in braids and she's got such a fancy dress, sort of like the ones I've seen at cultural festivals.

I want that doll. It's the kind of doll that's always sold in the gift shops, but I still want it very, very much.

Mom would never buy it for me, which means only one option: I'm going to buy it myself.

I've decided to put back the gum and get a smaller one after I buy my doll. I pick her up from the rack and take her to the checkout line. Her name will be Ruta; friend.

The line isn't very long, but I am impatient all the same. I hope I've got enough money! And if I do, will I be able to buy gum, too?

By the time I get to the counter, I am almost hyperventilating. Hands shaking, I hold out the money and the doll to the cashier.

"_Can I have it wrapped so it doesn't get ruined in my bag?" _I ask, "_Like, with bubble wrap or something?"_

_"I'll see if we've got any,"_ she says.

She checks and it turns out they do have bubble wrap. Yay! the cashier wraps Ruta up, puts her in a bag and then prints out the receipt. I proudly take the bag and receipt in my hand. Then I remember: _"Can I also buy this pack of gum?"_ I pick up a very small pack of strawberry bubblegum.

_"Sure,"_ She says, and then I quickly scurry away after.

Walking out, I realize that I'm going to need to think up a good lie for my mom. I open my backpack and put bubble-wrapped Ruta inside, snuggled into my blanket. Now, there's no way she could get hurt. I also stuff both receipts in so mom doesn't see what I spent the money on.

When she asks why I spent so much money on a small pack of gum, I explain to her, _"I realized I was very hungry so I decided to get some gummy worms, too. I kind of ate them there. I promise I won't do it again." _And I'm shocked when she actually believes me.

_"Feliks, you're a great kid, but we are seriously going to need to teach you more about money." _Mom says. _"I don't want you to spend our money on candy again, got it?"_

_"Got it,"_ I say.

And then we continue to wait for our plane.


End file.
